


Webcam

by Mottlemoth



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/F, Ficlet, Gender or Sex Swap, Zoom Call Shenanigans, femstrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29943663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mottlemoth/pseuds/Mottlemoth
Summary: Minerva Holmes's latest unbearable Zoom meeting is interrupted by a special guest star.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 10
Kudos: 83





	Webcam

**Author's Note:**

> I am once again clueless about how to rate this. I'm going for 'it's definitely no higher than a T'.
> 
> (As always, let me know if you find my work posted anywhere but AO3.)

These video conference calls are a bloody nuisance. Minerva has had to resort to them for a grand total of two months now, more than enough time for her to decide she loathes the entire concept with every atom of her being. Video calls somehow transpire to be an even greater waste of her patience than the face-to-face meetings which already blighted her days. She hates that she has been forced to discover how truly inept most of her peers are with technology; her high-definition webcam makes the rest of them look like they're working from home in the middle of the sea. Every five minutes, someone is interrupted by a doorbell, a spouse bearing a cup of tea, or a dog bursting into Daddy's home office with excited noisy children in pursuit. 

_ But we can't discuss this properly over email,  _ they protest. 

They mean that video calls make it easier to satisfy their egos through arguing endlessly over irrelevant details. In the end, they will all agree on whatever course of action Minerva advised within the first three minutes of the call. They have no choice. It is the best course of action, and they know it.

They just want to make a tedious show of  _ contributing. _

"—and so of course," Minerva sighs to her webcam, watching the world's most powerful people flicker and lag in fifteen separate windows spread out across her screen, "while you can expect a short delay to occur between the commencement of these policies and the time when tangible effects are measured, this strategy remains the least inefficient option available."

A few sage nods are given, a few thoughtful frowns. A bald gentleman tilts back in his chair, folding his arms in annoyance across his chest. From this angle he looks like a cross between a joint of ham and a thumb.

"If you'd care to see the results that followed a similar course of action taken in 1999," Minerva says, "I will email those to you once this meeting is concluded. I'm sure you'll all be satisfied as to the outcome."

"But are we certain this is gonna fix things  _ quick enough?" _ the thumb demands. His voice splinters wildly through the speakers; Minerva tries not to wince. "We can't wait much longer, Holmes. We're needing solutions  _ now." _

Minerva quietly presses her teeth into the side of her tongue.

"No," she says. "We are not certain. It's for the simple reason that this is  _ not _ a quick fix. There  _ are _ no quick fixes. If they existed, I would currently be reporting their overwhelming success to you, having told you to implement them a month ago."

"And what're we meant to say to the people who are demanding quick fixes?"

Minerva snorts. "I'd recommend your usual method of outright lies based on hot air and nonsense, Paul."

He splutters at her, appalled. As several other people weigh in to make their pointless opinions known, there comes a strange clunk and a squeak from nearby. Minerva assumes with a frown that it's feedback from too many duelling microphones, then catches a flash of movement in her own video feed. The bedroom door behind her left shoulder is opening, mirrored on the screen. 

Before Minerva can even draw breath, it pushes open wide.

Georgie appears in the frame, half-asleep and rubbing her right eye with the heel of her hand. A koi print silk dressing robe, sourced during Minerva's last trip to Beijing, hangs from her broad shoulders—but hangs open. Beneath it, she's as naked as the day she was born, her bare body and the tattoos acquired in her rebellious youth on display for all to see. Her dark hair is soft and wild, scruffed onto end so the silver in it shines, still dishevelled from the activities of the night before.

"Min?" she mumbles, heaving a yawn, oblivious to Minerva's sudden impression of a marble statue. A deafening silence echoes from the speakers. "Should've woken me, gorgeous... didn't realise you got up already..."

Minerva's eyes fly towards the screen of her laptop. Her expression is reflected perfectly in the faces of fifteen horrified world leaders, all staring back at her in wide-eyed astonishment. In full sight of the camera, Georgie idles up behind Minerva's desk chair, wraps her strong arms around Minerva's torso and squeezes her.

"Mhm..." She catches Minerva's ear between her teeth, tugging. Minerva's cheeks flood red in an instant. "What're you doing at the laptop this early? Everyone knows you're only meant to start working from home at eleven."

"A-ahh—Georgina, I—"

"Your spreadsheets'll still be there in an hour. C'mon. Come back to bed." Georgie smirks, nosing at Minerva's cheek. "I'll make it worth your while," she husks, reaches out a hand, and closes the lid of Minerva's laptop without looking. The gaping men and women there fold away from sight. One soft little snap, and they're gone.

_ Well, _ Minerva thinks.

The next conference call will be interesting, at least.


End file.
